TST {The pink collection}

In which they shop together

DELETED SCENE. Chapter 14's final alternate scene. Before the events of chapter 15.

Do you remember that one tiny scene where Artem stops Rico and asks her to help choose him a suitable outfit for their undercover mission? Well, my dear readers- originally, I planned for that scene to not be so short but an entire... dress up montage! But then I decided the tone was too teenager-y and coming of age to fit into the final draft and oh well. I still have that dress up montage though. And for the heck of it, here I am gonna be posting that shit. So, hope you enjoy <3.

Feel free to consider it canon.

It is in Rico's POV.

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40 minutes later, the automated glass doors to the store opened themselves.

"This is the men's section," I observed.

Artem studied the silver signboard. "Women's section is on the floor above. I will go buy mine. Later."

"Oi, wait, slow down," I said. "What are you in a hurry about?"

"To buy a suit and be done with it?"

"Pray, Artem, what is your definition of a 'worthwhile expense'?"

He just shrugged.

"Tch tch." I shook my head disappointedly. "Let me help you go through a worthwhile one."

I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the corner where suits hung. Well, suits hung in most corners except in casual wear. He let himself be dragged.

I examined the navy blue two-piece at the front with narrowed eyes.

"What are you scheming?"

"I am just helping my darling husband choose suitable wear," I said in my best casual tone. Obviously I was scheming. Scheming for fun to happen.

He stared.

"What do you mean d-darling husband?"

"C'mon, Mister Harrison," I gave him a look. "Did you forget the vows?"

The fabricated invitation also fabricated us as a married couple– the happily married Mr and Mrs Harrison, one of distant connections in the party. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the real Mr and Mrs Harrison were not going to arrive. This fact was of not much significance, but now. Oh now.

"Ah, yes, that." He massaged his temples, rather sweaty. "Of course. Of course."

Was he flustered?

"Go try this one on." I shoved the two-piece into his hands. Despite the casual behavior, I felt nervous. What if he finds it as crossing the limit? What if he gets uncomfortable? What if he says direct cold no to playing along and–

"Okay," he said and left for the changing room.

I blinked. I blinked again. Then heat rushed to my face at a speed that would leave most athletes quaking in boots. I have the green light now.

He stepped out a minute later, fixing the lapels of the chest piece.

Do I have rose tinted glasses or is he just bloody handsome?

"How do I look?" he asked, half glancing in the mirror.

I swallowed. "Very... um, very nice. Very nice, indeed. Truly nice."

He cocked an eyebrow. "This one then?"

"No, no," I said. "Remove it."

"Right now?"